


Payback

by ShatteredSwallowtail



Series: Taming Dragons [20]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:01:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26907793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShatteredSwallowtail/pseuds/ShatteredSwallowtail
Relationships: Aymeric de Borel/Estinien Wyrmblood
Series: Taming Dragons [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1733218
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	Payback

It was strange, when he considered it. How quickly and easily things had settled back into a semblance of domestic normalcy. Which in and of itself seemed completely alien to the former Azure Dragoon. ‘Normalcy’ wasn’t a quality to show herself in his life much at all. To add domesticity to that made it all the more strange in Estinien’s mind. And yet...here he was. Married.... With a house and a...child of sorts. Still in Ishgard, after.... Was it 2 months, or three? Certainly longer than he’d remained in his home city for quite some time. And yet...while he sometimes looked at the horizon with fondness, he no longer chafed against the idea of remaining.

Aymeric was almost certainly to blame, or so he would have liked to tell himself as he sighed and crossed arms over his chest. Watching the new dragon/dragoon partners trying to get the hang of a particular aerial maneuver. On their own, he had no doubt that either half of the dozen or so pairs could execute it perfectly. It wasn’t their skills that were lacking; it was their teamwork. And that was the whole reason that he was still here, wasn’t it? Helping his husband with this pet project of his, training dragoons into dragon riders as a way to broaden and strengthen the still-fragile peace between their two races.

Brilliant, it was. Brilliant and daring and exactly the sort of optimistic plan that his bluebird would have come up with and Halone be damned if he wasn’t incredibly proud of the sod for it. Not that he would voice such a thing. Or...not without bribery. Usually in the form of raspberry tarts or some other such treat. Oh, Aymeric knew how proud he was of him. But actually voicing the sentiment was something the dark haired man had to _earn_ from his husband. Nonetheless, it was still there and Estinien felt another surge of that same emotion as he watched one of the group finally manage the maneuver before landing to cheers and congratulatory words from his squadron-mates.

And…their new mascot.

In the middle of it all, exactly where he had told her _not_ to be, Yasha was bouncing on her tiny feet and clapping in excitement. A pair of dragonets flitting around her small form like hovering babysitters. Or at least, they would have been if either Orn Kai or Ehl Tou had any semblance of authority over the Xaela child. Instead, the two were more like her partners in crime. The white hatchling had attached himself to her once it became known to him that _she_ was attached to Estinien. Who he adored after the dragoon had given him aid in freeing his mother from Nidhogg’s song. Understandable, he supposed...but still a thing he most certainly did not need. As for Ehl Tou, he’d gone rushing out of the house one morning at hearing Yasha scream in the garden...only to find her absolutely delighted that one of the dragonets had ‘followed her home’ from Bregne. Any attempt to explain to her that the little red dragon’s presence in Ishgard had absolutely nothing to do with her was met with either a lack of comprehension or an abundance of stubbornness. Estinien suspected the latter, to be honest. And wasn’t it just his luck that the dragonet found the small child’s glee to be precious and decided that she would become a regular playmate.

Perfect… as if there weren’t enough baby dragons following him around whenever he spent time in the small settlement. Now Yasha was attracting them. And Aymeric - traitor that he was - found it _adorable_. He would. And it didn’t help matters that the dragoons adored her. Every. Single. One. Which was evidenced by the way she had become their unofficial mascot, nearly as often on their shoulders or their backs as she was on Estinien’s. Until he peeled her off and reminded her that they were not supposed to be playing with her. And she whacked him in the shins with her wooden practice lance and scowled and stomped her foot. Declaring that she ‘wasn’t playing, was training’. That had flown approximately once before he sternly declared that if she were to behave like that, then she would get no more training from him. And while her quivering lower lip had heralded - in his mind - a font of tears, she had instead pressed her lips together and nodded. To his great amazement and relief. He wasn’t good with tantrums, and walking away was apparently not what one was meant to do in such a scenario.

Aymeric was clearly out of his mind whenever he commented how ‘good with children’ Estinien was. His shins and his frayed nerves and lack of patience would argue to the contrary. Pushing the idle thoughts from his mind, he rolled his eyes as he walked over to scoop Yasha up and fix her with a stern look. “You can play with them when they’re finished with their practice. Go ask Vidofnir for a story, or focus on your own training.”

He’d probably catch hell from Aymeric later for inflicting their… whatever Yasha was onto the dragon, but he knew for a fact that Vidofnir found Yasha charming and had a near limitless store of patience for the child. And if he hadn’t already known that, he would have figured it out after she spent a solid hour swinging from one of the white dragon’s curved horns. He’d thought Aymeric would have a seizure of the heart at the time, but Vidofnir had simply chuckled and commented how similar Yasha was to the other hatchling dragons.

Offering up a silent prayer of thanks to Halone as the little girl chirped an ‘okay Papa’ and ran off with the dragonets in tow, he did his best to ignore the words. Nothing he or Aymeric said or did seemed to discourage Yasha from referring to one or both of them by the moniker and he’d given up trying to make her stop. Not to mention that he wasn’t blind to the look in Aymeric’s eyes the first few times she’d called his husband that. It would make things difficult, when they finally came to a decision about who should care for Yasha long-term. Whether he was willing to voice it or not, he couldn’t deny to himself that it wasn’t only his husband who had grown increasingly fond of the child. Not to mention the vow he had taken to her and to himself to train her to one day avenge her family’s death at the hands of the Rathalos that had killed them. A commitment like that was not something he took lightly, and it stood to reason that whomever took in Yasha on a more permanent basis...he himself would play a large role in her future. Of which the logical conclusion was that she remain in Ishgard indefinitely. Perhaps one of the other dragoons....

**_He returns again._ **

Estinien was pulled from his thoughts by the soft voice of the young dragon who served as his mount during training. At first he had balked at the idea, until Aymeric had pointed out that it would be difficult for him to train dragoons to fight _with_ dragons unless he did so himself. Orn Ahl was one of Vidofnir’s daughters herself, and it had been surprisingly easy to grow accustomed to her presence. It also made it much easier with her to aid in the communication between dragon and dragoon considering more than a few of the dragons were still a little bit leery of his presence given his former status as their greatest enemy. Except the babies, of course… to his utter distaste.

Glancing over at his scaled partner, he followed her gaze to what had become a familiar figure leaning against one of the small stone outbuildings. At first glance, it appeared to be merely another dragoon. One with a taste for flair, considering their drachen mail was a deep midnight blue with subtle gold accents. A bit flashy for his taste, but it wasn’t his place to judge. Only.... that _wasn’t_ drachen mail. It looked like it, and to anyone _other_ than a dragoon of his experience...it would probably fool them. But true drachen mail wasn’t like other armour. It was _earned_ , and the mail itself imbued with enhancements that couldn’t be duplicated in any other way. It was the whole reason why one wasn’t considered a true dragoon until they had earned their set. But this man - definitely not a woman with the breadth of those shoulders - was wearing what seemed to be… a _facsimile_ of drachen mail. Not to mention...the why of it still eluded Estinien, as did the identity of the figure. They showed up every so often over the last couple of weeks, keeping to the sidelines and making an apparent attempt to blend into the scenery and just...watch. And while he had at first assumed it was another of Ishgard’s dragoons, curious as to this new regiment and their training...the realization of the false drachen mail had sent his mind immediately to a plethora of other possibilities.

It had been little more than a combination of his own curiosity and the mental reminder that so far the stranger had done no more than observe that kept him from stalking this mystery man. For while there were a myriad of troubling possibilities - a spy, a sabatour, a plot from remnants of Thordan’s ilk - the stranger didn’t _feel_ threatening. Not only that, but there was something about him that Estinien couldn’t place. Something that niggled at the edges of his mind.

**_Why do you refrain from acting? It is obvious that you are bothered by his presence._ **

He sighed and shrugged his shoulders at the dragon before answering. “I do not know, but there is...something about him. I cannot figure it out. He does not offer threat, merely watches. And while that in and of itself is suspicious, it serves me better to observe and discover his intentions than to act as of this time.” And that fact was grating on his nerves as he watched the mystery dragoon watching the others. Leaning against the wall, one hand resting oddly against his hip almost as if he had.... A sword…. His eyes widened as the realization slammed into him and he wondered why he hadn’t realized it before. That whoreson… He barked an order to one of the other dragoons as the mystery man turned to head back towards the barracks, leaving them to continue their drills as he followed. Quickening his pace as he saw the figure slip into one of the unused storage rooms, he caught the edge of the door and followed, shutting it behind him to lean against it with a scowl. “Explain yourself. _Now_ ”

The man in the false drachen mail spun around, that hand reaching for a sword that wasn’t there and Estinien’s eyes narrowed as he bit back a growl. “I’m _waiting_. And spare me the falsehoods or excuses. Explain to me why, if you trust me enough to helm this pet project of yours, you feel the need for such deception. And yes, I know it’s you.” He watched as the ‘dragoon’ froze, as though considering his words before the man sighed and reached up to unfasten his helm. And...he’d been right as he glared at his rather sheepish looking husband’s face before closing the distance between them. Grabbing the front of Aymeric’s armour and shoving the shorter man back against the wall with another growl. “I’m still waiting for that explanation, Aymeric.”

It was obvious from the tone of his husband’s voice that this wasn’t a time for jokes or teasing, and he carefully wrapped gauntleted fingers around Estinien’s wrist as he shook his head. “It was nothing born of a lack of trust in you, Estinien. Or a wish to deceive you. I merely…” He sighed, closing his eyes as he continued. “I only wished to see you. To watch, to see the progress you were making. Yet every time I tried to come as myself, I would be called back to Ishgard. Set upon and made a fuss over. I just...wanted some peace. I swear, it was not meant to cause you strife. Never that.”

As much as he wanted to stay angry, to feel slighted and deceived...Aymeric’s words made sense. Halone knew he’d watched his husband be unable to simply walk through the Jeweled Crozier without half a dozen citizens trying to shake his hand or offer him special deals and tokens of their gratitude for the changes he had brought to Ishgard. Even when he eschewed his usual armour and coat for more common clothes, he was still as recognizable as Vidofnir. But there had been no need to keep the truth from _him_ , and that was the part that made him angry. That still had him debating whether to throw a punch or turn and stalk out of the room. Gritting his teeth, he shoved Aymeric back against the wall again. “You should have told me.”

“Yes. I should have.” Aymeric’s answer was soft, remorseful as he nodded. “I’m sorry…Truly sorry. It was never my intention to cause you pain, my own. Never at all.”

And Fury dammit, he couldn’t stay so angry when Aymeric sounded as genuinely sorry as he did. Though that didn’t mean his ire was quelled, and Estinien heaved a sigh as he relaxed his grip and stepped back to cross arms over his chest, looking his husband up and down. “Where did you get the mail? It looks custom-made, but it isn’t true drachen mail. It just _looks_ like it.” And by the twelve, if it didn’t look absolutely mouth-watering on his husband. He’d have to thank whomever had made it for answering a long-running question in his mind about just how good his bluebird would look in a dragoon’s armour. Aymeric glanced down at his new armour with a faint smile and a shrug. “It was, apparently it was Lucia’s idea. Seeing as this new regiment was my idea, she thought I should have something to make me more obviously a part of it. Francel suggested the mail, and several others donated coin or skills.” Glancing up, he raised an eyebrow with a questioning smile. “Do you...like it?”

Like it? He wanted to see how good it looked strewn about the floor. Which he didn’t have the time for right now, but he could at least get somewhat even with his husband and so he pressed Aymeric back against the wall with a low growl and a roll of hips. Leaning in to brush his lips against one ear and savouring the shiver that went through the shorter Elezen at the soft growl in his voice. “I’m going to fuck you in it.... But not now. I still have drills to attend to, so instead I’m going to leave you with that thought… of how I’m going to make you scream for me when I’m finished. For _hours_... I want you to spend the rest of the day thinking about it...anticipating… _obsessing_ …” He knew he was getting the desired effect as he watched those blue eyes widen, pupils blowing and swallowing up that sky hue as his husband swallowed hard and barely managed to bite back a moan. Diving in, he crushed lips over Aymeric’s, thrusting his tongue into the other man’s mouth and swallowing the groan that he drew out with another roll of his hips against his husband’s. Drawing it out until he felt Aymeric’s hands grip at his shoulders before he pulled away and stepped out of reach. “That’s all you get until _I_ decide otherwise. And don’t you _dare_ touch yourself before then.” He smirked and licked his lips. “You want to be a dragoon...then you take my orders.”

His legs almost buckled at the hunger in that kiss, and the sudden and unexpected absence of Estinien in his arms had Aymeric automatically reaching for the dragoon as he stepped out of reach with that smirk. That first statement had him hard and aching, and every word since only intensified it. Which was obviously what Estinien had wanted, as his husband turned and walked back out of the room without another word. And Fury take him, but he himself knew how that demanding tone affected him. As did Estinien, obviously. Biting back a groan as he reached for the discarded helm, Aymeric settled it back onto his head with a sigh. Sundown… that was when they usually stopped training. 4 hours away. Although given that his husband was still righteously angry with him, he could count on being made to wait at least an extra hour. But Estinien had been dead right about one thing; there was no way he wasn’t going to spend every moment of that time with his mind on anything other than the anticipation.

If he wasn’t so determined to make Aymeric pay for this, then his own resolve might have cracked after an hour or two, but he was nothing if not stubborn. And just as his husband had - unbeknownst to him - suspected, Estinien drew out the day’s training for an extra hour and a half before finally dismissing the rest of the regiment and heading back to the small private room that served as his own quarters while he was here at Bregne. Some small part of him wondering as he unlocked the door if he would find it empty, his husband having left for Ishgard and refusing to play along. Not bothering to hide the pleased smirk on his face at finding the Lord Commander’s still armoured frame settled rather stiffly on a crate in the corner of the small room. “Hmm….so you _can_ take orders….” He mused, slowly stripping off bits of his own mail as he kept his eyes on Aymeric’s. Oh yes, he could tell that his demands had been obeyed, from that hightened colour in his husband’s cheeks. And the subtle changes in his breathing that gave away just what manner of state he was in.

Good. He deserved the discomfort, and Estinien wasn’t going to grant him relief from it without making him _work_ for it. Setting aside gauntlets, he tugged the tie from his long hair and slipped the prismed earring from his ear. Feeling the faint tingle as the glamour faded away, he held back the smirk as he caught Aymeric’s breathing quicken just slightly. As if Estinien didn’t know how much Aymeric loved the feral glow in his eyes. It was actually...hekpful, in a lot of ways, making it easier for him to embrace it. Locking fiery gaze on dilated blue, he slowly licked his lips before turning and seemingly ignoring his husband as he slowly stripped off the rest of his armour and set it aside. He could practically _hear_ Aymeric’s teeth grinding as armour shifted softly as he clenched his hands. Still waiting, still silent as he held his tongue and awaited permission - or orders - from Estinien.

If he’d thought it difficult to wait before, it was nothing compared to now. With Estinien deliberately toying with him. Somehow effortlessly managing to make so simple an act as removing his armour something so sensual and erotic that Aymeric wanted to tear his own off and pounce on the dragoon. And Estinien wasn’t even _trying_ to tease with his movements. There was no flirtatious sliding of metal across skin, no tugging at laces with teeth or any of the other sorts of things that one would assume. It was all in his eyes. In the way they burned with hunger and desire and possession. In the deliberateness of every motion, as though he knew that any contest was already won and this was merely a formality. Savouring his prize and his victory before claiming it as his own. Which Aymeric had no doubt was exactly what he intended as he peeled off the underlayers, tossing them aside as the knight’s blue gaze devoured and traced every inch of pale skin and toned muscle. He couldn’t quite hold back the groan as the last piece of clothing fell away and Estinien curled fingers around his own rigid cock with a lazy stroke and a soft moan. Keeping his eyes on Aymeric as he settled himself back on the bed and crooked a finger in a come hither motion.

This was going better than he’d expected it, and the control he had over his husband right now was an aphrodesiac all in itself. As Aymeric approached, he leaned up to catch the side of his husband’s face, rubbing the pad of his thumb over those full lips before pressing it between them with a purr. “Good…. It seems you can follow orders after all. Now... “ He punctuated the pause with another slow stroke of his fingers as his breath caught on a soft groan. “For all the honeyed words this tongue and these lips spill every day… they were _made_ to be wrapped around my cock.” There was no need for him to give any kind of push to the back of Aymeric’s head, as his husband readily dropped to his knees with a soft moan, pulling the head of Estinien’s cock into his mouth as he did so.

Fuck...he’d meant what he’d said; that mouth was made to be fucked, and another groan tore from Estinien’s throat as Aymeric took him deeper with another hard suck. Swallowing around him as the dark-haired man shifted his jaw to slide lips all the way to the base before he began to bob his head. Oh no. No, he wasn’t going to lose control over this, and Estinien’s free hand twisted into ebony curls as he gave a yank to hold Aymeric’s head still. Taking over as he rocked his hips to thrust into his husband’s mouth. Whispering orders as Aymeric sucked harder with every upward thrust of Estinien’s hips, he fumbled in the small nightstand for the little bottle of oil that he kept in there for Aymeric’s frequent visits.

Curling his fingers tighter into dark hair, he yanked Aymeric’s head up and off of his cock, leaning in to thrust his tongue between those lips before pulling back and holding up the bottle for Aymeric to see. “I’m not fucking you until you get yourself good and ready for me…” His words were a growl as he pressed the bottle into his husband’s hand before pushing his head back down and thrusting up into that hot, wet mouth again with a groan. Silently thanking the Twelve that Aymeric seemed to understand exactly what was expected of him, as he started to squirm one hand free of its gauntlet to work at the fastenings at his waist. Obviously remembering that Estinien wanted his armour _on_ , which meant only taking off the parts that were in the way.

He kept burning eyes on his husband as he continued to fuck Aymeric’s mouth at a slow, leisurely pace that belied the hunger he was keeping barely leashed. Whether he was proving a point or not, he would die before he knowingly and intentionally hurt his husband. But oh Halone, the noise that Aymeric made as he shifted enough to press one of his oiled fingers inside of himself was almost enough to shred what remained of Estinien’s control. “More… you can take more than that, Aymeric.... “ He growled as he fisted his other hand in dark hair, able to all too easily picture those long, elegant fingers buried two knuckles deep...thrusting and curling as Aymeric scissored them and worked himself open, moaning around Estinien’s cock. 

It was too much; those growling commands as he worked yet another finger into himself, gasping out a moan around the thick length that thrust into his mouth over and over. His own cock throbbing and leaking as he fought back the impending climax before his head was yanked up again for another rough kiss and hoarse demand.

“Ride me, Aymeric... so I can watch you fuck yourself on my cock in that armour…”

It seemed a miracle that he was able to summon enough coordination to actually scramble up and straddle the dragoon’s hips, and Aymeric couldn’t tell if it was his own efforts or the fingers that dug into his hips to pull him down into Estinien’s hard upward thrust that managed it. Everything after that first initial penetration flew out of his mind as Estinien filled him so completely and utterly. Words became an incoherent sobbing cry as he was jerked down into every hard, deep thrust; perfectly angled so that every one had him seeing stars and crying out for release. Release that Estinien refused to allow him, leaning in to growl into his ear.

“You don’t come until I say you can…”

His growled order was met with another choked cry, desperate need colouring the syllables that he thought had began as his name. It was almost pointless now; he himself was so damned close already that forbidding Aymeric wasn’t going to last long. And the way that his husband was shaking in his arms… Estinien kept one hand clamped onto Aymeric’s hip as he guided every spasming roll of hips, the other sliding up armoured chest and up the side of his husband’s neck. Curling into the dark hair at Aymeric’s nape to wrench his head into another deep kiss. _**Scream my name when you come…**_

The growl of Draconic into his mind was all the permission that Aymeric needed and his voice cracked as he howled Estinien’s name. The next hard thrust shattered the last remnants of his control and he vaguely heard an answering cry of his own name as the dragoon followed him over that edge into the white haze of ecstasy. Thrusting them both through it before sagging back against the bed with Aymeric slumped across his chest, Estinien allowed himself a soft whimper before slowing starting to work loose the remaining buckles and straps of Aymeric’s armour. His husband was a boneless weight across his chest, breath sawing out of his lungs as he whimpered softly and the dragoon couldn’t help a faint chuckle even as he tried to slow his own gasps. “Need….more practice….dragoon…..”

The expected response came as less of a subtle jab and more of a mumbled agreement as Aymeric nuzzled into his shoulder. Which...was honestly fine with him, as any remnants of his earlier ire had faded in the wake of the contented afterglow and the comfortable warmth of his husband curled up against him. The husband that it appeared he had nearly fucked unconscious, and Estinien allowed himself another soft chuckle as he reached to gently strong dark curls. “Rest, Bluebird. We’ll talk about it when you wake.”

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